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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27276631">Peace in Pieces</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssrj_335/pseuds/mssrj_335'>mssrj_335</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Will/Santi Bin [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Triple Frontier (2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Control Issues, Gentle Kissing, Insecurity, Inspired by Music, Intimacy, Look I was just real in my feelings about some dialogue and carrot saved me, M/M, Purple Prose, i guess</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:10:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27276631</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssrj_335/pseuds/mssrj_335</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Santiago wants to give up some control. He just doesn’t know how to ask</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Santiago "Pope" Garcia/William "Ironhead" Miller</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Will/Santi Bin [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2124348</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Peace in Pieces</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCarrot/gifts">TheCarrot</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I want you to say it."</p><p> </p><p>He's trying so hard not to beg. All he's met with is considering silence, then, </p><p> </p><p>"No."</p><p> </p><p>Fuck, he can't even say it. Pope squeezes his eyes shut. Panting. How can he ask?</p><p> </p><p>It started out as a dark cloud. Hovering over him the entire day. Of course, Ironhead understood. Sometimes that's just how it goes. And Pope, well. On days like this, it's all about control. Every facet he could get his hands on was one he bent to his will. Sometimes it helps. But day turned to night and the feeling persisted. So, he figured, maybe it's the opposite. Only, how could he ask for something he doesn't have words for?</p><p> </p><p>William, perceptive fucking Will, caught on without hesitation. Pulled him up from the couch to the shower. The familiar, slippery slide lent some solidity to his shaking nerves. Then to bed. What started innocent at first devolved. And Pope was sure it would all go his way. Until now. Damn him, Ironhead knows. He knows what he needs without even having to ask. Except that he does ask. Needling, prodding Will. Surrounding him. Even behind closed eyes he can feel that. Boxing him in with solid arms, nestled in the cradle of his hips. Santiago scrabbles at his shoulders, pulls himself almost into a ball. Hiding.</p><p> </p><p>Though if anyone said that, he'd probably stab them.</p><p> </p><p><em>Not tonight, please no games tonight</em>, he wants to say. Guilt rattles around in his chest, hitting fear and anger, sparking like a strike plate. But that really does sound like begging, doesn't it? It's just nights like this where, "I need-- please--"</p><p> </p><p>Will curls in. Noses along the line of his jaw and simply asks, "Why?"</p><p> </p><p>Fuck, why. Who the fuck knows why? "Because...I haven't ever heard it in a long time." Goddamn Ironhead, Pope's not even looking at him but those eyes burn in his brain, pulling the words out anyway. "I want it so bad I could choke on it. Now c'mon, give it to me."</p><p> </p><p>Just to make a point, he rolls his hips, slow and wanton. More exposed than he'd ever admit. And it kind of works, because Will hisses. Presses into him. Comforting weight, a mountain to hide under. But he doesn't totally get away with it. William gets a little more insistent, nipping at the pulse thudding in Pope's throat. Reprimand.</p><p> </p><p>"You make a very convincing argument."</p><p> </p><p>Well, <em>that</em> just pisses him off and his eyes fly open. "Then why the hell are you still stalling?"</p><p> </p><p>"Don't you think you need to say it yourself first?"</p><p> </p><p>Uh oh. Bad idea opening the eyes. Santiago can only look up now, and all he finds is Will. Is that what he was looking for?</p><p> </p><p>Maybe.</p><p> </p><p>"How the hell am I supposed to say it first. I'm asking you for something."</p><p> </p><p>He waits.</p><p> </p><p>"I know."</p><p> </p><p>Christ, does he have to make it so hard? "So, what..."</p><p> </p><p>He wishes Will would move. Just...fuck him to kingdom come. Tear him apart piece by piece. But all he gets is stillness. Just Will. Unwavering. That remarkable fucking patience that makes him lethal. Santiago groans, smacking his head back into the pillow. And Ironhead has the gall to actually laugh at him.</p><p> </p><p>"Come on, you can do it. Use that big brain."</p><p> </p><p>Santiago's tempted to reach up and bite the shit out of him, just for that. It shouldn't be this hard. It shouldn't be hard at all. The trust wasn't. He trusted Ironhead more than anyone. The sex wasn't hard either. Well, at least not in a bad way. But this...god, this feels like getting shot over and over. His heart aches, chest and throat feel so tight. All his muscles tense. He just...wants. He's terrified of it. Without even realizing, his fingers dig in Will's shoulders. Sometimes he's not even sure what he wants. But <em>tonight</em>, he wants to just...let go.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly Will's back. Right in all of his senses. Closing in a little tighter, breath warm on Pope's neck. "Nothin's gonna hurt you darlin', especially not me. Come on."</p><p> </p><p>It's the <em>darling</em> that gets him. Tender fucking bastard.</p><p> </p><p>"Fuck, fine. I just--I need to give this up. For a little while." It scrapes out of him, raw and ragged. <em>Why is this so hard?</em> "I can't--I can't keep holding on like this."</p><p> </p><p>Will smiles against his skin. "Good."</p><p> </p><p>"If...if I keep holding on, I'm gonna hold myself underwater. Fuckin' drown myself. And I need you to--" Breath catches, chest heaves, agony. "--to make it ok."</p><p> </p><p>Will reaches in, cups his hands around Pope's face, thumbs the wrinkles at the corner of his eye. "Good, sweetheart, come on."</p><p> </p><p>He has to look now, he should. So of course he looks anywhere but Will. Right now it's a spot on the ceiling behind his shoulders, swimming in the dim light. "It's not...fair, I shouldn't ask. But I'm askin'." Christ, is he trying. "I'm a selfish bastard and I'm askin'. Can you just help me forget, for a little while?"</p><p> </p><p>Ironhead tilts his face toward him, thumb still stroking, and Santiago finally meets his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Will's smiling.</p><p> </p><p>"Perfect."</p><p> </p><p>Pope shivers. The praise does him in and he fucking shivers. "Say it again."</p><p> </p><p>Eyebrow.</p><p> </p><p>"Please."</p><p> </p><p>Satisfied, Will bends to him again, peppering kisses down Pope's neck, chest. All the way to his stomach. He hovers, just above Santiago's navel. The brush of his lips there makes Pope twitch.</p><p> </p><p>"You're so good for me, you did so well."</p><p> </p><p>Santiago gasps. Wraps his thighs around Will's chest. <em>More, more, more, more.</em> He begs it with his body. Tiny jerks, surrender. Turning himself over, at last. Maybe Will can give him peace in his pieces, pull him apart and slip past his jagged fucking edges. He wants. But, defensive, he asks, "And?"</p><p> </p><p>Will kisses his stomach. "I promise I'll make it whatever you want. For a while."</p><p> </p><p>He sighs, and lets go.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
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